


A Joyful Place

by goldenteaset



Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Creepy, Gen, Is it cannibalism if they're two humanoid species?, Mind Control, Minor Violence, Slow Build, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenteaset/pseuds/goldenteaset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“'…I don’t want to be eaten. How do I know I can trust you?'</p>
<p>Froud smiles toothily at him. “I know you don’t. It’s a scary thought, isn’t it—your soul being devoured? So I’ll make you a little deal: when you’re in my world, I won’t harm a hair on your head. After all, my world is a joyful place.” He puts a hand to his chest and bows. “I give you my word as a Devil—no, my core as the Devil of Joy.”'</p>
<p>An alternative to Froud's bad ending that no-one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Joyful Place

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone else wonder "Hey, wait, why take Konoe's free will if you never use that against him?" ...Probably not, but hey, sometimes creeping yourself out can be fun! ^^;  
> I may go back and edit this again, but I think the pacing's solid.
> 
> (Also it's "Froud & Konoe" because I took Froud at his word with "sexual pleasure can be exhausting", and he sounded increasingly self-loathing in his bad ending, so.) 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Lamento: Beyond the Void.

Konoe stares at Froud’s outstretched hand, uncertain of whether to take it or not.

The thought of going back to Rai after possibly hurting him—even if Leaks was the culprit—makes his chest hurt and mind reel. _If I hurt Rai, and Rai couldn’t face me again, then…where should I go? Where_ could _I go?_ He thinks of Karou and knows he’ll never be able to return there.

“Don’t worry,” says Froud, his voice soothing and compassionate. “Because we’ll be going to my world, I’ll accept you.”

_Accept._ The word echoes in Konoe’s heart, an unfamiliar warmth. It brings to mind his parents: his father and mother singing in the sun, their arms wrapped protectively around him. He finds himself yearning, deep within his heart.

_Maybe…maybe this is the only way. But first…_

“…I don’t want to be eaten. How do I know I can trust you?”

Froud smiles toothily at him. “I know you don’t. It’s a scary thought, isn’t it—your soul being devoured? So I’ll make you a little deal: when you’re in my world, I won’t harm a hair on your head. After all, my world is a joyful place.” He puts a hand to his chest and bows. “I give you my word as a Devil—no, my _core_ as the Devil of Joy.”

Konoe knows that’s as good a promise as he’s ever going to get, and right now being able to feel anything other than worry sounds like heaven. Taking a deep breath, he looks up at Froud without fear.

“Do we have a deal?” Froud asks, his voice bouncing.

Konoe reaches out and takes Froud’s hand. He flinches at the chill that greets him—these black-clad fingers are as cold as ice.

That chill is forgotten when Froud unexpectedly pulls him close. At first Konoe wants to pull away, but he soon understands: a bright green wind _roars_ around them, whipping hair and clothes alike. His ears lower in surprise. He looks up at Froud’s face, and though the Devil’s eyes are hidden, his smile conveys his reassurance.

“It’s alright, kitty,” he says soothingly, his voice carrying despite the wind around them. “Remember our deal.”

Froud lifts their joined hands and brushes his dry lips across Konoe’s knuckles, then his forehead. It’s an intimate gesture with a tender implication—not the sort of thing expected of a Devil.

Konoe feels something slip inside his heart, a familiar ticklish emotion that rests like a spark within his mind. His pulse picks up slightly—and not out of fear.

Before he knows it, the burst of wind subsides, and he finds himself in utter darkness.

“Welcome home,” Froud murmurs, his voice laced with amusement.

He lets go of Konoe’s hand and wraps his long arms around him—the gesture creates a strange reaction: a warm, comforting emotion born from a unnerving chill. _Is he trying to protect me, or…?_

It’s too dark to see anything at first, but then a faint green light like a guiding leaf begins to glow, illuminating the area. The more Konoe sees, the more he realizes he’s been here before.

He bristles once he recognizes the green flame and the marked stone beside it.

“This place is…!”

“My, my, you don’t like it?” Froud asks with a pout. “Were you expecting a new, exciting locale?”

“I…” He tries to explain about his fear of fire, not to mention how he’s had nightmares of this place, but considering how insensitive he’s seen Froud act he realizes it’s a lost cause. “Well, if it’s your home, and you promised not to eat me…I guess it’s okay.”

Froud perks up and begins fidgeting in excitement. “Good, good! Now, then, since you’re my guest—what would you like?”

Tiredness washes over Konoe. “…A bed would be good.”

Froud chuckles. “It _is_ rather late. So, here.”

His hands sway in the air, and a forest-green patch of fluff appears before them, big enough for Konoe to roll around on. Two huge pillows made of the same material rest atop it.

Konoe can’t believe it. “Is that…a cloud?”

“That’s right! Does it look comfortable?” Froud peels back the top layer, showing that it’s a blanket.

_It could be solid stone, and it wouldn’t matter right now._ “Yes, definitely.”

Without further preamble, Konoe shrugs off his equipment and climbs into his new bed. It’s strange at first—he sinks into the cloud as if it’s a sponge. But all strangeness is soon forgotten once his head hits the pillow.

As he drifts off to sleep, he faintly hears Froud whispering something, and a gentle touch on his tail.

\---

Morning.

At least, Konoe _thinks_ it’s morning when he sits up and stretches. The darkness that surrounded them has changed to a silvery color, and now that he has a better look at Froud’s home…it’s less frightening than he thought. _It’s a little bare, though._

He looks around for Froud, and doesn’t see him. When a soft noise catches his ears, he instinctively looks up. A familiar black, wiry tail sways in front of his eyes. Fighting the urge to bat at it, he sees that Froud has a large cloud-bed of his own—and judging by the soft snuffling Konoe’s hearing, he’s still asleep.

_Better not wake him, then._ Konoe doesn’t bother donning his equipment yet and begins grooming. He glances up now and then to see if Froud’s awake. For a while, nothing changes, but in the middle of rasping his tongue along his shoulder Konoe looks up in time to see a bone-white arm riddled with scars scratch Froud’s tail, then vanish again. _So he’s been in some fights, huh…_ Konoe’s surprised, despite himself—Froud tends to be the one _stopping_ fights, not starting them.

Lost in thought, Konoe turns his attention to his tail, trying to ignore how ugly it is now. He hoped he’d never see this provocative black color again, but clearly Leaks wants him to suffer in ways big and small. _No. Don’t think about that. You’re far away from Leaks and his plot now._

He hears something rustle, and turns just in time to see Froud float before him, dressed in skintight darkness once again.

“Um…good morning.”

“Morning!” Froud bows from the waist, smiling like always. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I have in awhile. Thanks.” Konoe swishes his tail, though he suspects its movements aren’t seen.

Froud seems to sense his tail anyway—his hand reaches out and pets the kinked tip thoughtfully.

Konoe bristles, but can’t pull away. “What’re you doing?”

“Petting this cute tail of yours.” Froud sighs contentedly. “It’s so soft…it feels nice.”

“It’s ugly.” Konoe scowls. “The tip’s crooked, and it’s not its original color anymore…”

“Hmm…I suppose it’s a little crooked.” Froud lowers his voice conspiratorially. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“Everybody has things they’d like to fix about themselves. Even Devils.” Froud strokes Konoe’s tail one more time before letting go.

He scoffs.

Froud chuckles and taps his mask with a finger. “I wear this for a reason, you know.”

Before Konoe can ask what that reason is, his stomach interrupts with a loud _gurgle._ He curls up his tail in embarrassment.

“I guess it’s time for breakfast, then! Let’s see, you like kuims the best, so…”

“You can make food, too?”

In answer, Froud twirls his hands and a green bowl filled with kuims appears. Konoe’s mouth waters at the sight—they look fresh, if the reddish-purple skin is any indication. He reaches out to take one, only to find the bowl is being held out of his reach.

“Froud, what’re you playing at?”

“Nothing at all,” Froud says in a sing-song tone, as he plucks a particularly plump kuim from the bowl and begins to peel the skin with his claws. The bowl floats in the air, the kuims lightly bobbing up and down. “I was just thinking if you ate too quickly, you might get sick.”

“I’m not a kid, you know,” Konoe grumbles. “I’m an _adult_.”

Froud continues his peeling and chuckles. “Sorry, sorry! I won’t forget again…” It’s hard to tell if he means it or not.

Konoe watches Froud’s green claws slide around the kuim and wonders if Devils need to use them. _They don’t hunt—at least not the way Cats do—so maybe they use claws to fight?_

Thinking of fighting makes Konoe think of Rai. A piercing blue eye shines in his mind, and his heart sinks. _I’m sure he’ll find a better Sanga than me, but…_

“You’ve gone awfully quiet, kitty. Are you thinking of sad things?”

Konoe returns to the present. “Sort of.” He frowns down at the ground. “I was just…thinking about Rai again.”

“ _Oooh_ , I see, I see. That white kitty wouldn’t want you to be sad, you know. He’d probably say something like”—Froud lowers his voice and rasps—“‘Stupid cat, wallowing in self-doubt when you should be enjoying yourself! I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.’”

Konoe manages to chuckle. “Yeah, he probably _would_ say something like that.”

Froud’s soft laughter sounds genuine. With his eyes hidden behind his mask, his voice is all Konoe can rely on—an unnerving prospect.

The last peel slips off the kuim, and Froud holds it up like a trophy. “Oh, I should cut it, too…” He deftly slices it into quarters before Konoe can say anything. “Here we are!”

“Thanks,” Konoe says, though he’s a little annoyed at being treated like a child yet again.

Froud holds up a slice in front of Konoe, purple juice dripping down his hand. “Now, say ‘aaah’.”

At first Konoe bristles, but a thought occurs to him: _If I take it from his hand and eat it, he should be fine with that too._ With that in mind, he reaches out and takes the slice, popping it in his mouth. A familiar, sour-sweet flavor slides over his tongue, making him purr in contentment. The kuim feels lighter in his mouth than usual, but not to a distracting degree. He swallows and finds himself hungry for more.

This time, when he reaches for Froud’s hand, Froud holds the kuim protectively toward himself with a downcast expression.

“What’s wrong?” Konoe asks, instinctively cringing.

“I thought you trusted me,” Froud replies, in a tone that reminds Konoe sharply of Asato.

Konoe looks down in shame—it’s as if he’s doomed to hurt others. “…Sorry. It’s just that I don’t know you that well yet.”

“Oh…we have _plenty_ of time for that.” Froud’s lips slowly curl upwards. He chooses another kuim slice and holds it out, like the one before. “Well, then, say ‘aaah’.”

Konoe braces himself. _It’s not_ that _offensive, in the end. It’s just being fed by hand. Maybe Devils do this all the time._

“ _Aaaah_.” He opens his mouth, and the kuim goes in.

He briefly tastes the icy salt of Froud’s fingers before they retreat—it makes a strange combination with the sweet-sour flavor. Thankfully, the saltiness isn’t overpowering. It’s strange—though Konoe’s being fed, he doesn’t feel sated yet.

Froud smiles eagerly. “Is it good?”

Konoe swallows and nods.

“Do you want more?”

“Mm.”

The process repeats—for some reason, Froud can’t get enough of Konoe saying “aaah”—and it doesn’t take long for Konoe to finish the first kuim and start on a second.

This time, Froud doesn’t feed him by hand; instead he listens contentedly as Konoe savors the sweet-sour flavor gliding across his tongue.

“There’s more if you want some.”

Konoe licks his fingers clean and pats his stomach. “Two is enough.”

“Alright. What should we do next?”

Konoe wants to ask why Froud’s asking _him_ , but figures that it’s because he’s a guest. “Is there any place we can explore?”

“Well, my home is pretty big.” Froud nods. “Actually…I _do_ have a little game we can play.”

“What kind of game?” Konoe squints suspiciously.

“Oh, don’t worry, nothing with high-stakes—unless you want that. No, it’s…a Two Canes game. It’s called Hot and Cold—do you know it?”

Konoe’s ears perk up in surprise and excitement. “Is it like hunting?”

“Mm, something like that. How it works is: someone hides something, and the other person has to close their eyes and look for it. It’s usually something small, but any size will do. When the seeker’s far or near to the object, the hider tells them they’re ‘getting cold’ or ‘getting hot’. The game ends when the seeker finds the object.”

“Huh. And then the roles switch?”

Froud grins. “That’s right! Now, you’ll go first. Anything you want to hide?”

Konoe bristles slightly at the implication, but he soon thinks of something. He plucks one of the cross-shaped brooches off his cloak and lets Froud touch it.

“Would this do?”

“Mm-hmm. Go ahead, I’ll wait.” Froud covers his ears—no doubt so that Konoe can’t accuse him of cheating.

The brooch grows slick with sweat as Konoe searches for a proper hiding place. He steers clear of the green fire and the stone, his eyes flicking this way and that. _No luck—this is Froud’s home, there’s no place he wouldn’t immediately look. Except…_ Konoe grins slyly to himself and slips the brooch in his breast pocket. _…He won’t search me—not immediately._

“Are you ready?” Froud calls.

Konoe makes a point of running from the huge stone. “I’m ready—you can look now.”

“This is already fun…” Froud mutters to himself, chuckling. He lazily floats toward the stone, as expected.

“You’re cold,” Konoe says immediately.

Froud nods, as if he already knew. He searches everywhere, from their cloud-beds to the cracks in the floor. He makes a point of inspecting everything thoroughly, _tap-tap-tapping_ his claws against his hip. His tail swishes behind him—he looks almost like a cat.

All the while, Konoe calls out that he’s cold, letting his amusement show more and more. It’s strange—normally he wouldn’t be like this, but he feels a sense of freedom here. _Hopefully Froud won’t get angry._

Froud, for his part, seems equally entertained. “I must say, you’ve done surprisingly well, kitty.”

“I’m surprised too.” Konoe tries to keep his voice level—he doesn’t want to reveal his plan yet.

For a long moment, neither speaks. Then Froud turns his head to look at him, a sly smile slithering onto his face. He gracefully slides onto all fours and begins crawling toward Konoe, his wiry tail swaying behind him.

“Am I getting warmer?”

“Um…”

“That’s not an answer, kitty!” The ominous words are barely cushioned by a childish pout.

“You’re getting warmer,” Konoe assures him, while stepping backward. His back hits what feels like a wall of wind.

“Hehe, I knew it…!”

With those words Froud pounces, yanking Konoe down onto the floor with him.

They’re a tangle of arms and legs, one body colder than the other, and Konoe immediately tries to squirm away. Somehow he finds himself more entertained than fearful—after all, if Froud wanted to eat him, surely he would’ve done so while Konoe slept?

After a brief struggle, he finds himself sprawled atop the Devil, his lower half resting on Froud’s belly.

He feels Froud’s hand leisurely pet his head, an almost invisible touch. Instinctively he lurches back—and feels his body aided by a cool breeze.

His arms and legs—they’re caught in invisible threads. His arms hang in the air, and slowly the rest of his body follows, dangling like a puppet in front of Froud.

“There,” the Devil says, looking very pleased. “Now the best parts are in reach.”

“Wh—hey, don’t cheat!”

“Me, a cheater? No way.”

Froud’s hand reaches out and tickles beneath Konoe’s chin.

Konoe can’t help it—a nervous chuckle escapes his lips.

The tingling feeling shoots down his neck as those claws crawl across his skin like a spider. He chuckles again, high and hoarse. He wants to squirm away, but can’t bring himself to.

“Am I warmer now?” Froud asks teasingly, his feather-light touch attacking Konoe’s armpits.

He manages to speak between laughs “Don’t—don’t stop—” _Wait…shouldn’t I be telling him to_ stop _?_

“Yes sir,” Froud singsongs. He moves one hand to Konoe’s belly, while the other stays at his armpit.

Froud’s laughter caresses Konoe’s ears, making them twitch wildly. The tingling feeling intensifies, feeling like a breeze floating through his skin. It’s as if he’s become a single, exposed nerve ending, or the strings of a lute.

Slowly but surely, he finds himself unable to form coherent sentences. Vaguely he feels Froud’s touch become lighter in some places and harder in others—a strange combination of tickling and massage. Konoe’s head feels light and stuffed with cotton, and all he can think is _It feels good, more, more_ like a simple beast.

“I think _you’re_ the one getting hot, kitty,” Froud whispers in his ear, his amusement rumbling through his shivering body.

At one point, he feels Froud’s fingers brush over his heart, and faintly feels something slip out. Before Konoe can recognize what it is the good sensations begin again, and he’s back to crying with laughter.

After the pleasant sensations are replaced with a weary numbness bordering on pain, Froud doesn’t stop. He seems to get amusement from Konoe’s frustration and weariness—every feeble twitch and strained laugh makes his smile broader. It takes Konoe coughing and gasping for breath for him to finally cease.

“That was amusing,” Froud says, plucking the brooch for Konoe’s breast pocket. “Now it’s your turn to find my hidden toy.”

As he snaps his fingers and releases Konoe, Konoe takes revenge. He tackles Froud to the ground and aims for his belly—there’ll be no remorse.

Freud’s defense is terrible. As soon as Konoe’s fingers clumsily wriggle at his belly, he’s laughing too hard to resist. His body arches shamelessly into the touch, his feet scrabbling for purchase.

Of all the things Konoe expected to do when he left Karou, riding atop a ticklish, bucking Devil of Joy wasn’t considered. It’s the least strenuous “battle” he’s had yet. Froud keeps giving him openings: holding his black-clad arms above his head, craning his neck for better access, it’s as if he _wants_ Konoe’s touch.

Unfortunately, Konoe’s still tired from Froud’s tickling before, so it doesn’t take long for him to stop and climb off. His mind is still foggy, and he doesn’t feel like moving right now. And yet…

“You said…you hid something too.”

It takes Froud a moment to get his breath back. “That’s right, kitty. Actually, I hid it while you were sleeping. Want to look?”

Konoe wants to take a rest first, but he finds himself curious. He struggles to his feet and closes his eyes. “What does this thing feel like?”

“Fluffy in some places, smooth in others.”

With that description in mind, Konoe goes searching. He goes to where he thinks the cloud-beds are first, but is met with a cheerful “Brrr, you’re very cold” and turns away. He avoids the flame, relieved when Froud confirms his suspicions. Soon he grows frustrated: it seems _everywhere_ he looks is “cold”, and he suspects whatever Froud hid is on his person, or nonexistent.

When Konoe stumbles into Froud, he’s greeted with a smug “Still cold, kitty. Do you give up?”

“No.” Disappointment swirls in his stomach.

“Oh, don’t look so sad! Here, I’ll help.” Froud easily takes him by the shoulders and turns him slightly. “Now you’re warm.”

“…Thanks.”

Konoe steps forward, arms stretched out. He feels something lukewarm brush his fingertips, and his heart leaps. He keeps going, his ears straining for suspicious noise.

“You’re warmer!”

Konoe struggles to keep his eyes closed. He feels something part before him and brush his cheeks, like a curtain of wind. He can hear Froud not far behind him, laughing in delight.

“Warmer, hot, you’re burning up!”

Just as Konoe registers those words, his fingers brush against something luxuriously soft, along with a familiar scent. It brings to mind sunlight trickling through a forest, a sword being oiled, a voice like heated steel—

He snaps his eyes open, his heart in his throat. Rai stands before him, his blue eye wide, his body floating helplessly in the air just as Konoe’s was before. It looks like his mouth has been forced shut.

“Rai, what’re you— _how_ —”

“ _You win_ ,” Froud whispers, his breath tickling Konoe’s ear.

Konoe instinctively tries to lash out, but in seconds he’s strung up the same way Rai is, an arm’s length apart from him. He tries to struggle, but it’s no use: the invisible bindings are even stronger than before.

“How long has Rai been here?” he growls.

Froud rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm…since you went to sleep. While you were cozy in your new bed, Rai and I had a chat, as we often do. He seemed to think I stole you away, how cruel!” He makes a mock-sad expression, complete with a slight tremble in his voice.

A sinking feeling descends upon Konoe. He thinks of the morning’s events, from when he woke up to the “Hot and Cold” game. Realization pricks his heart.

“Say, Rai, what was your favorite part? Don’t be shy. Was it when I complimented kitty’s tail? You never _did_ do it properly. Oh, or maybe when he ate from my hand—he made that fruit look _delicious_ , didn’t he? But I’m sure you already did things like that, lovebirds that you are. And he follows instructions _so well_ …”

Konoe watches Rai’s cheeks turn redder and redder, too stunned to say anything. _This is wrong—this isn’t how this should be—_

“Speaking of which, the ‘Hot and Cold’ game was fun too. You must’ve been _dying_ to call out advice, like the good mentor you are. The tension was amazing, I’m sure. And when kitty’s trick failed…you had a front row seat! You got to watch your serious little Touga laugh and squirm so sweetly, while all his thoughts trickled away…”

Rai bristles, his ears flat against his head.

“What was it he said again? Oh, yes: ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop’!” Froud moans theatrically. “Inside, he was probably thinking something like ‘Oh no, this is so embarrassing! And yet, I can’t get enough’…” He bites his lip and shakes his head. “‘Ah, I mustn’t! Only Rai’s allowed to touch this body…’”

Konoe bristles in embarrassment. “That’s not it!”

“Hmm? Oh, that’s right. You weren’t thinking at all, were you?”

Konoe can’t refute him. All he can do is hope that Rai understands.

Froud touches Rai’s red cheek, and his smile grows wider. “Ah- _ha_ , looks like that _was_ Rai’s favorite part. That can’t feel good, watching someone else play with your beloved. But it looks like Rai’s different from most!”

“Stop it!” Konoe shakes his head, not wanting to hear anymore.

“No way. This is too much fun! Since you’re feeling left out, I’ll ask you instead: what part was _your_ favorite?”

Konoe hisses and spits, yearning to claw and bite Froud’s smug face off. Unfortunately, he’s just out of reach.

“Not in the mood, I see. That’s fine—I think we all know the answer.” Froud wiggles his fingers meaningfully.

Even muffled, Rai’s rage is loud and clear. He’s struggling desperately now, his blue eye wild and dark. His attempts are in vain.

“Hmm…Rai, are you ticklish?” Froud’s expression is full of cruel mischief. “Ah, but in the state you’re in…no, that wouldn’t be good. Instead…” Froud rubs his chin, as if in thought.

He's floats in a circle around them, his shadow covering and uncovering them in turns like storm clouds over the Moon of Light.

“Well, there’s _plenty_ of things we can do together. We could wrestle—Rai and I never _did_ finish our fight.”

Konoe watches Rai’s body tense in surprise. With a jolt, he remembers Rai talking about a demon he once fought. _There’s no way…!_

Froud's almost close enough to touch. Just a little nearer and Konoe will have his chance.

“Oh, or you two could bathe together! Wouldn’t that be fun, kitty?” Froud’s voice lowers seductively. “You’d get to soothe your sore muscles in the hot water…see suds dripping down your lover’s back and chest…feel your skin get slippery from the soap…ah, it sounds nice!”

Konoe lashes out again, his vision black with rage. His teeth grab a chunk of skin and dig deep. Froud’s flesh spasms against his jaw. He feels a foul-tasting liquid fill his throat, and he’s forced to retreat lest he choke. He spits white globs of fat and red blood onto his shirt and the floor.

Rai’s desperate, muffled chuckle is the only thing keeping Konoe from vomiting. Through blurry eyes, Konoe looks at him and feels his heart glow with relief. _As long as we can still fight back, as long as we don’t go mad…this isn’t the end._

Froud laughs softly—it’s an eerie sound, almost like a sob. “That was surprisingly well done, kitty. Alright, I’ll stop teasing you two for now…”

Konoe looks at him and sees he bit through the Devil’s cheek; Froud’s fingers trace the damage in admiration. Froud licks his bloodied claws idly, his tail slowly swaying from side to side.

“I’m getting hungry,” Froud says, and with a snap of his fingers Rai’s mouth is freed. “Which reminds me…I have a favor to ask you, Rai.”

“You’re not getting any help from me, _bastard_.”

“I wasn’t asking permission.” Froud’s voice is like frozen silk. “I was thinking, since nobody knows Konoe’s body like you do, that you’d be the best person to ask: which part should I eat first?”

At those words Konoe’s mind goes blank with terror. In his heart, he knows he shouldn’t have trusted Froud’s word, but the betrayal still stings. His mind races to think of a way to escape or die before Froud can kill him. _I won’t let him get that satisfaction, I_ won’t _...!_

Rai bristles, his eye glaring at Froud as if to kill him where he stands. “The neck. Obviously.”

_He wants my death to be quick and painless._ Konoe hopes his gratitude is clear.

Froud understands too. He laughs mockingly. “While I don’t doubt his neck _is_ very tasty, I meant something with a little more… _personal_ significance _._ ”

Konoe bites back a scream as his body moves about according to Froud’s will: jerking his legs back, then hoisting him so that he’s dangling on all fours. The pose borders on the obscene, and Froud blatantly ignores his pain.

Blood rushes to his head, roars in his ears. He feels his shoulders and neck strain under his own weight.

“So, I’ll ask again: the arms and legs? The thighs? The tail? Well, hurry, this is an important question!” At the mention of each body part, Froud gestures to them like a demented jester.

Konoe tries to bite his tongue, but Froud shoves his clawed fingers into his mouth. They're cold and salty. Tears blur his vision as he gags.

“What a naughty kitten, trying to steal my fun.” Despite the playfulness of his words, Froud sounds genuinely annoyed. 

Konoe's body is righted, and the blood swirls dizzily from his pounding head to the rest of him. His reprieve is short-lived, however.

“Rai, you need to teach him some manners—on second thought, no doubt you’re the culprit.” 

An icy chill descends upon them. Froud isn’t smiling anymore; it’s as if one mask has been swapped for another.

“I didn't forget my promise,” he says in a voice like a winter breeze. “Don't be scared, kitty.”

Konoe’s mounting terror vanishes like a snuffed-out candle, replaced with blissful blankness.

Everything is all right. Why was he acting so frightened before? Froud won't hurt him.

“…Konoe?” Rai’s looking at him oddly, like they’ve never met before.

Froud lets out a blissful sigh and removes his claws from Konoe’s mouth. “ _Much_ better. Ignore Rai. He's just being overprotective!”

Konoe nods and soaks in the contentment warming his heart. In the back of his head, he knows something’s wrong—his free will is no longer his own. _But what does that matter?_

Froud hums thoughtfully, then beams. “Ah, I know—kitty, what’s Rai’s favorite part of you?”

Konoe’s cheeks burn; he knows the answer well. “Rai likes my ears.”

“Well, well, that answers that!”

Konoe feels something wet and heavy stroke his ear—Froud’s tongue. He giggles at the sensation and tries to squirm away, but he feels cool claws cup his head and hold him in place.

“I see why you like them so much, Rai,” Froud whispers, making Konoe’s ear twitch wildly. “They’re so fluffy and sensitive!”

As Froud’s tongue slides in and against his ear, he hears his giddy laughter muffled by thick saliva. It’s a very strange feeling—he’s not sure if he likes it.

A burning, tearing sound pierces his mind, something’s been bitten—

“—Enjoy this, kitty—”

—Konoe arches into the soft sensation. He can’t hold back a soft moan as his ear is delicately nibbled and sucked. It feels like a massage, going bone deep into tense muscles and kneading them into smooth bliss. _I’m glad it isn’t rutting, that would be embarrassing…_

Rai is saying something from far, far away.

Froud pauses for a moment, as if savoring the taste. “Mm, this is quite the delicacy! I’m honored, truly.”

A corner of Konoe’s mind screams in warning and is silenced. Mounting, rising joy is all there is.

Konoe gasps as Froud’s free hand trails lightly against his closed eyes, the touch painfully delicate.

“…Kitty, what color are your eyes?”

_Why is my eye color so important?_

“They’re orange. Mother said they looked like amber stones.”

“Ooh, very poetic of her! Well, that’s close enough.” Froud strokes Konoe’s lashes with a claw. “They’ll make a good replacement for the ones I lost.”

A gust of wind ruffles Konoe’s hair and chills the drying saliva.

Konoe feels his head being gently turned. Reluctantly he opens his eyes, and his joy temporarily falters.

Froud’s mask is gone, and two stitched-up eyelids look back at him, framed by a sad frown. 

“Right, kitty? Your heart hurts for me, doesn’t it?”

It’s true. Konoe’s chest aches with pity, and he fights against his bonds to touch those red, raw wounds. _No-one_ should suffer this way, least of all the Devil who helped him.

He wants to help. He _needs_ to help.

"Konoe...no..." 

Why does Rai sound so pained? He'll ask later.

Froud smiles, and the stitches strain to accommodate. “Thank you, Konoe!”

Konoe’s never felt so happy. The rising, sunlit warmth is almost painful.

His vision is obscured in acidic green and umber black.

“I’m sure they’ll be a perfect fit.”

Konoe can’t stop smiling.


End file.
